Chapter 11:
Molly groaned as pain surged through her legs. Despite being heavily medicated, she could still feel every rush of pain. However, there was one up side to the pain meds; she was feeling incredibly relaxed. Being so relaxed gave her mind leave to wander in many different directions. More often than not, she found her thoughts settling on two topics: death and Sherlock.
A small chuckle escaped her lips as she considered both topics and how they related to one another. Her laughter quickly fade though, and she considered the possibility of her death. The taxicab accident could have claimed the life of all its victims. She heard no information on the condition of the driver, but she was incredibly thankful that Sherlock had gone practically unscathed. As she looked down at her injured both, a chill of fear ripped through her. Had she died, Molly wasn't certain where she would end up. Thoughts of her Christian upbringing came into her mind, and she wondered whether there wasn't something in all of it. Something she might have missed; something that made it all worth while.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the nurse coming in to check on her. They talked briefly before she left, and found out that she had a visitor.
"You can let them in," Molly said politely.
The nurse shook her head. "Sorry Molly, but visiting hours aren't until the later morning. The sun isn't even up yet."
She nodded, being content with the fact that she would have to wait. However, her visitor wasn't too keen on being told he had to wait. Molly could hear Sherlock arguing with someone outside her door, before he came rushing in, coattails fluttering behind him.
"Molly," He said nodding hello.
"Sir," The nurse said obviously frustrated. "I told you that you couldn't come in until visiting hours. What didn't you understand about those instructions?"
"Nothing," Sherlock said, never taking his eyes off Molly. "I understood them perfectly; they just don't apply to me. You can see Molly is awake, and I distinctly remember hearing her say that I could come in. I see no problem here, then."
"I'll call security." The nurse threatened.
Molly could see the tension between them intensifying, so she stepped in. "Nurse, please, it's fine. If he's quiet, I can promise you, you won't even know he's here. I'll make sure he behaves." At these last words, she smirked.
The nurse remained in her place for a few second longer, before consenting. She left the room dejected. Molly felt bad for the poor woman, but she knew that picking an argument with Sherlock would get her nowhere. Once the nurse was gone, Molly turned her attention back the the consulting detective. To her surprise, she found him already seated in the chair next to her bed. He looked at her with eyes that were incredibly worn out and tired. She was quite startled by them, actually.
"Are you alright, Sherlock?"
He nodded. "Of course; I am perfectly alright."
Silence fell between them again, and Molly longed to fill the gaps with words. His constant gaze on her was becoming uncomfortable. She began to reason that he was simply deducing her situation, which gave her an odd sort of comfort. His deductions were something she could expect, something she could count on. In a world that was filled with uncertainty, Molly longed for something to count on. As her thoughts began to chase after the list of things she could count on, Sherlock spoke.
"How are you feeling?"
She looked over at him, not realizing that she ever stopped. "As well as to be expected. They have me pretty heavily medicated, but I can still feel the pain."
At her words, Molly noticed something flash across Sherlock's face just briefly. Was that concern on his face? Sherlock Holmes, caring about my well-being? Utter nonsense. What if he did care though? The question adorned her mind like a black and white photograph in the middle of a colorful gallery. It didn't belong there, yet oddly enough, it did.
Fatigue began to play with her eyelids. It had been a difficult night for her, with very little sleep and almost constant pain. Her eyes flickered to Sherlock's, hoping he would say something to keep her awake. However, he simply looked at her with the same look of indifference she was accustomed to.
"I do care, you know." Sherlock whispered, the words hanging in the air between them.
Unfortunately, his words were not heard by their recipient. Molly had drifted off to sleep.